


What the Night Brought Me

by 1lostone



Series: What the Water Gave Me [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blowjobs, Gay Sex, M/M, Mutual Pining, Rimming, Sex, Unsafe Sex, feelings are involved, rather a lot of gay sex, so this is a series now?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-19
Updated: 2012-07-19
Packaged: 2017-11-10 06:34:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/463285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1lostone/pseuds/1lostone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two months after their night in the pool, Derek comes back.</p><p>Stiles is 17 in this fic. Marked as underage just in case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What the Night Brought Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redhoodiestiles](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=redhoodiestiles).



> Orig written for redhoodiestiles on tumblr. :)

**Sequel to What the Water Gave Me, although since they are both basically PWPs with no redeeming literary value whatsoever, you can read this by itself. There will be one more story though in this series. :D**  
  
  
  
  
Stiles shut his locker door with a bang and took a deep breath, resting his head against the cold metal. His Chemistry book felt like it weighed three hundred pounds. The last class of the day. Figures.  
  
But if he skipped, then he ruined his .03 lead over Lydia for Valedictorian. Fucking Harris. Who figured attendance into their grades? _That_ jackass, that’s who. Harris had had it in for him every since Stiles’ dad had held him for questioning. He couldn’t do much about the endless dickheaded comments in class, but he _could_ make sure his happy ass was there on time. True, Lydia had been late twice before, but Stiles was a pragmatist. At least when it came to Harris. He needed every edge that he could get.  
  
But Jesus. Stiles had never wanted to bail on a class more in his life. The only thing that kept him walking in the familiar, hated classroom was the opportunity to annoy the fuck out of Jackson by existing, although he and Scott had made a point of not sitting directly next to him.  
  
Stiles slid into his seat ten seconds before the bell rang. Lydia arrived late, her hair mussed, looking a little wild-eyed. Stiles didn’t know what was going on with her lately. He’d tried to find out, but after being shot down for the eight-millionth and sixty third time, Stiles acknowledged to himself that he finally got the fucking memo. Jesus, he really didn’t want to be here today.  
  
Fifty-two minutes until the end of class.  
  
An hour and ten minutes until he was home.  
  
An two hours until Derek finally fucked him for the first time.  
  
Even thinking that had Stiles shifting uncomfortably, hoping that no one had a reason to look over at the half-wood he had in his shorts. Stupid fucking lacrosse shorts. _Why_ hadn’t he worn jeans?  
  
Stiles sighed, glad that he had done the homework up through the next unit already. Harris’ voice took on the _wah wah wah_ of the teachers in the Peanuts cartoons, and Stiles spent most of the class staring glassy-eyed at the front of the board, trying to seem as though he was interested.  
  
It had been two months since the pool.  
  
Stiles had felt a little ridiculous at the way he’d jerk to attention whenever he saw Derek’s Camaro as he dropped by the school to pick up Erica or Isaac. Derek never seemed to notice him staring, and since Stiles was usually with Scott, it had been easy to ignore. Derek had said that them fooling around didn’t have to mean anything, and it wasn’t fair of Stiles to be pissed. He’d agreed. Hell, once he’d realized that Derek actually wanted _him_ , Stiles had literally jumped him.  
  
He cringed a little, looking down at his notes. He doodled a little in the margin. That sort-of, not acknowledged crush thing he had going on? Well, playing with Derek’s dick hadn’t exactly stopped it.  
  
So... two months of nothing. Which, okay since his dad had grounded him until Stiles basically graduated from college it had given him a lot of time to get things done. Important stuff. Like school, and... stuff. Scott had even remembered that they were best friends again and since Allison’s mom and grandfather were doing a lot more to enforce their breakup than Allison’s dad had, Scott had been spending a lot of time over at Stiles’ house.  
  
It had been a little weird that Scott needed to sneak in, especially given that Stiles’ dad actually still set a plate for him when he was home to do dinner. They’d played a lot of xbox. Scott even pulled a Derek, using Stiles’ window to come in and leave like it was his personal doggy door.  
  
Stiles caught himself nodding off and shifted in his seat, sneaking a glance at the clock.  
  
Holy fucking _shit_. Thirty minutes. Harris broke them into groups to work the last set of problems and Stiles rolled his eyes. Erica, Stiles, Lydia and Jackson. Seriously, Harris had a hardon for fucking with his life. Still, working in a group would make the rest of the day pass faster.  
  
His phone buzzed in on the table top. Stiles jumped, then felt his face flush when Jackson grabbed his phone.  
  
“Awesome, Stilinski. Who are you making plans to kidnap next? Anyone I know?” Jackson looked at his phone, his eyebrow going up as he whistled low under his breath.  
  
Stiles cringed. “Give it back, come on.”  
  
“Hmmm. A message from _Derek_. How interesting.” Jackson made his voice higher as he read the text. “‘ 40 min. Do I need to bring anything?”’  
  
Shit. He reached out for it, wincing when Jackson grabbed him by his shirt, twisting and pushing him away, stretching out his long arms so that Stiles couldn’t reach his phone. “I’m pretty sure that you touching me violates the terms of the restraining order.” He tried being nice. “Can I have my phone back?”  
  
“Fuck you, Stilinski. If I remember correctly, you like messing with other people’s phones? Sending texts for them?” Jackson stretched a little further, texting one-handed.  
  
Stiles tried to jump up, but Jackson switched his grip so that his hand was on Stiles’ shoulder, twisting painfully. Stiles saw Harris look over at them and smirk, then turn his back to Danny and Scott’s group. Scott was staring around Harris’ body, glaring at Jackson like he wanted to jump up and punch him, right there in the middle of class.  
  
It was hard to make a case for saving someone when they acted like a complete douchebag all the time.  
  
Lydia blinked, staring at Jackson like she was bored. “Jackson.” Two syllables, but Jackson reacted like he’d been slapped. He let go of Stiles who rubbed his collarbone in reaction, throwing Stiles’ phone down onto his open book. Stiles snatched it up and cursed under his breath at the text that Jackson had sent.  
  
**don’t bother. have better things to do.**  
  
Shit! Stiles glared at Jackson who just continued to smirk, his face looking more and more smug as he sat there with his arms crossed over his chest.  
  
“Mr. Stilinski. Is that your phone?”  
  
Stiles stashed it, conjurer-style. “No.” Fuck. He couldn’t text Derek back without losing his phone. Stiles grabbed his backpack and book and moved over to a table as far away from Jackson as he could. Asshole. It had taken him _weeks_ to get Derek to agree to come to his place; figuring out a stint of his dad’s schedule that would leave Stiles home alone for an entire night. He didn’t wish the flu on anyone, but he was glad that his dad had stepped up to work Deputy Reyes’ shift. His dad was nice like that.  
  
Harris took his time in allowing them to pack up, waiting until only a minute before the bell was set to ring. Stiles was the first to get his stuff stashed away, and once the bell finally _-finally!-_ rang, Stiles made it out of the school like the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels. He had his phone out so quickly that he almost dropped it, texting Derek as he jogged to his jeep.  
  
**Sorry. That wasn’t me! See you in 10?**  
  
Stiles hadn’t gotten a text back in the time it took him to get home. It was brutal, knowing that if he was caught speeding again, his dad wouldn’t hesitate to give him a ticket. His dad had been really pissed off with everything that was had been going on in the last year, knowing that Stiles was lying about his involvement in the weird shit that had been happening. Catching him in the pool had resulted in an awkward conversation, the confiscation of Stiles’ beloved jeep keys, and a disapproving silence that had lasted for the two months that he’d been grounded.  
  
Still, not even his dad was immune to the Stilinski Babble, and Stiles was kind of proud that he’d managed to wear him down. It was a skill.  
  
Stiles pulled into the driveway and jumped out of his jeep, unlocked the front door and slammed inside. He was thirsty, so he made a quick detour to the kitchen for a bottle of water before slamming his way upstairs.  
  
He probably should have expected it.  
  
The bottle of water crashed to the floor with a wet gurgle when Derek grabbed his shirt, whirling and slamming Stiles against his wall hard enough that an old picture of him and his parents jumped off the wall and onto his floor.  
  
“Fuck! _Ow!_ What?”  
  
Derek let go of him when Stiles winced. Something shifted over his face too quickly for Stiles to play identify the expression, but instead of gripping his shirt so tightly that it pressed on the bruises Jackson gave him, Derek just crowded in, leaning forward and breathing deeply.  
  
“You’re hurt.”  
  
Stiles rolled his eyes. “I’m not _hurt._ Jackson was just being Jackson. Sorry that he texted you.” He stretched his shoulder a little more, trying not to wince. Stiles had hardly noticed the throbbing pain before Derek had bounced him off the goddamn wall.  
  
Derek made a weird sound in his throat, kicking at Stiles’ sneakers with one boot so that Stiles was off-balance. “He marked you.” He pressed in further, so Stiles couldn’t help but look up into Derek’s eyes.  
  
Stiles was a little surprised. His eyebrows rose. “Really? I hadn’t really noticed. Ha. Asshole. He is kind of handsy, now that I--” Stiles trailed off, staring down at Derek who had opened his mouth, and was breathing lightly over the spot through his shirt, his breath humid and hot. It made Stiles shiver.  
  
“Um.. Derek?”  
  
“I’m thinking of how much give your skin will have when I bite you.”  
  
And okay, casual references to bodily harm shouldn’t make Stiles feel this way, right? But it did. He had a full body memory of Derek yanking him up with water sheeting down over the both of them and couldn’t help the way his throat went dry.  
  
“Think about that a lot?” Oh sure, Stiles. _Bait_ the werewolf. Because that’s worked so well for you so far.

His mouth was gonna get him killed one day.  
  
Derek pushed forward that last little inch, moving so that the heat from his jean-covered thigh pressed up against Stiles’ own cock. Stiles heard the sound he made and told himself not to be embarrassed, that it wasn’t anything Derek hadn’t heard before.  
  
“You have me come to your house, to a room that _reeks_ of Scott where you have been _marked_ by _someone else_. And you ask me _that_?” Derek’s laugh was anything but friendly. It sounded like a punch; the bright sharpness of glittering glass before it cuts you.  
  
Stiles blinked, shocked silent at the intensity of Derek’s voice. He had never seen Derek laugh before. Even a mangled laugh like that. Confusion was starting to bleed into the spike of heat that pooled low in his gut. Why was Derek so pissed off? “Um. I don’t mean to be slow here. But I haven’t been able to get you to even return my texts for two months. And when you do it’s just for a hookup. You haven’t needed me for your pack stuff. And that’s cool, whatever. I know I’m not really yours. Uh. Your pack. With the whole human thing I have going on. So.. why are you mad at me again?” Stiles winced inwardly. Just saying that Derek was here for a casual thing made his heart give a funny leap. He had to forcibly remind himself that as much as he was starting to figure out that on the Stilinski side he didn’t want so much of a hookup as ... something more, Derek barely tolerated him. It wasn’t like they were friends.  
  
Derek reacted as though Stiles had slapped him. He actually took a step back, and Stiles found himself shifting to follow the heat of Derek’s body before he could make himself stop. Stiles brought his hands to press against the wall, behind his back so that he wouldn’t reach for Derek.  
  
“Derek?”  
  
Derek just looked at him, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He looked down at the floor, glaring at it. Stiles was so confused. He’d obviously screwed something up, but he honestly didn’t know what he’d done. He forced a smile and reached out slowly, touching at the sleeve of Derek’s jacket. “Hey. Look, if it’s my age...”  
  
That made Derek’s gaze jerk up to meet his.  
  
“I can’t do much about that. I don’t want to, to be honest. I like that you’re older. That you know better and-” Stiles stretched out his hands, flailing a little at the room. “And you’re here with me anyway. But um. If all my questions were annoying, I’ll try to keep all my curiosity about your junk to myself.” He mimed zipping his lips. Stiles brought his hand around to the back of his neck, rubbing, feeling a little sheepish. A lot embarrassed.  
  
“You have no idea... why I’m here.” Derek’s statement was flat.  
  
Stiles opened his mouth, his brows wrinkling. “Um. You want to fuck me? Finish what we started in the pool? Play Parcheesi?” A horrible, horrible feeling began to churn Stiles’ stomach. “Uh. Ohmigod. You came here for something else. You’re. Not. Um, interested?” He cringed back. “Oh jesus I’m so sorry. Of _course_ you’re--”  
  
Derek shut him up by kissing him, which just for the record, was proving to be a really effective method of shutting him up. Stiles was pretty sure he was still mouthing apologies until his lips caught up with what was happening and he began to kiss him back.  
  
Derek pulled off his mouth to strip off Stiles’ shirt, then dove back in, crowding him up against the wall again. Derek pulled away from Stiles' mouth, scraping his chin and the side of his face down Stiles’ neck. It made him bite his lip, the skin feeling overstimulated and sensitive. When he felt Derek’s lips on his shoulder where Jackson had twisted, Stiles thought his knees would give out. Derek moved back to his previous position, giving Stiles his thigh to rock against. It felt like all of the air in his lungs evaporated at once. Starbursts exploded behind his eyes, and Stiles canted his hips wanting the drag against his cock.  
  
Stiles moaned when Derek licked at his shoulder, scraping his teeth over the bruise. It reminded him of something. Stiles opened his mouth to ask, before remembering that he’d just said that he wasn’t going to be annoying and shut it again with a small snap. He bit his lip, grunting a little when Derek pushed against where the blood vessels had burst. There’d be a hell of a good bruise in the shape of Jackson’s fingers tomorrow.  
  
“Maybe.. uh. Maybe we could move this to my bed?” And yep. That was his voice. Stiles didn’t think he’d hit that note since puberty.

That or he was being possessed by Minnie Mouse  
  
Derek ignored him, catching the skin of the darkest part of the bruise in his teeth. He pulled, slowly stretching it until Stiles could feel his own blood close to the surface. Derek bit the skin until it was almost too much, then let go, licking at the spot he’d marked. It reminded Stiles of being in the pool and feeling Derek’s claws scritching along his back- not enough to hurt, but just enough for Stiles to know that he _could_ hurt him, if he really wanted to.  
  
Like a warning.  
  
“Derek....” Stiles trailed off, sucking in a deep breath.  
  
“I don’t want to smell him on you.” Derek sounded so urgent that it took Stiles aback, like there was something that he really needed to understand and still wasn’t getting it. Derek bent to suck at the teeth marks on Stiles’ shoulder and Stiles couldn’t help the full-body shudder. Derek moved his mouth down, skirting over his nipple, down his over his chest, his sternum, stopping at his navel and _oh shit. Oh my god Derek Hale was on his knees in front of him_. Stiles knew that his mouth was open a little as he stared down at Derek’s face, tilted up. From that angle his eyes were almost perfectly clear as he stared into Stiles’ shocked gaze.  
  
Stiles’ head clunked against the wall again when Derek mouthed over his cock through the athletic shorts, sucking at the fabric. Stiles didn’t know if the fabric was soaking from his leaking dick or from Derek’s mouth, but he was afraid if Derek didn’t stop he was going to go off right here, in his pants. Stiles tugged a little frantically on Derek’s hair, his other hand scrambling on the wall as he tried to push himself away from Derek’s mouth. Derek reached up a hand, pressing on the bite mark with his fingers and Stiles shouted in surprise.  
  
“Shit! Shit, Derek.. I _can’t_. I’ll. I’m!” Stiles didn’t even know if he was talking. It _sounded_ like there were words coming out of his mouth, but the familiar feeling of his balls tightening, of his cock starting to spurt overwhelmed and Stiles could only freeze against the wall, one hand tangled in Derek’s hair, the other pressing against the wall like it was the only real thing he knew.  
  
Derek pulled down Stiles’ shorts and his underwear, licking at the cooling mess, nuzzling his nose into Stiles’ groin until Stiles’ knees absolutely collapsed and he slid down the wall. Derek followed him, his tongue still lapping at the mess, and even though it felt a little weird Stiles was pretty sure that he had pretty much the goofiest grin in the world on his face. He felt drunk. He cleared his throat. “So, uh. I finally get a guy in my room and I _still_ come in my pants. That just happened.”  
  
Derek made a sound between a chuff of air and a snort and stood up, taking Stiles’ hand and yanking him up. “ _Now_ we can go to your bed.”  
  
Stiles’ legs were still the consistency of melted jelly beans, so he thought the fact that he flailed a little when Derek yanked him up was excusable. He looked at himself, his softening cock hanging out of his shorts, the shorts halfway down his hips, the waist band trapped under his balls.  
  
He still had his tennis shoes and socks on.  
  
And suddenly, he was embarrassed.

He tugged his hand out of Derek’s grip and tucked himself back into his shorts, pulling them up with two short tugs. Stiles winced at the cold spot of saliva and come when it was flush against his skin, then bent down to undo his shoelaces stalling for time. He kicked them off into their corner and toed off his socks then turned and stood up, not quite meeting Derek’s eyes.  
  
“Stiles.” Stiles jerked his gaze up to where Derek was staring at him. “If you’ve changed your mind...”  
  
“Oh hell no,” Stiles blurted and that startled Derek into a laugh. “I’m just.. not sure how this works.”  
  
Derek look horrified.  
  
“No! Jesus! I know _how_ it works. Haven’t you ever heard of internet porn?” Still, Stiles felt himself blushing. “It’s just the bits until getting naked that are awkward. With someone else here, I mean. For example, and please don’t think this is a criticism in any way, shape, or form, but I couldn’t even stop! From coming. In my shorts.” Stiles would have bitten off his own tongue before finishing that statement with the obvious _like a kid_ , but that’s how he felt. Gangly and awkward and ridiculously hair-triggered.  
  
Although in his own defense: Derek Hale’s mouth.  
  
Stiles shook his head and tried a smile. “So... now what?”  
  
Derek sat down on the bed, pulling off his boots. Stiles’ eyes widened when he saw the bright pink socks, but Derek’s death glare kept his nervous laughter inside. Mostly. “Uh. So those are... slightly less than the badass image you were going for.” Stiles could hear Derek’s molars grinding all the way across the room. He took a step forward, than another. It was hard to be intimidated by a werewolf wearing pink socks.  
  
“Erica and Isaac bought them.”  
  
_Oh, Jesus._ Stiles had to bite the inside of his lip as he took a few more steps forward, sitting down on the bed next to Derek, fighting to keep his face from breaking out in a smile.  
  
Derek rolled his eyes and waved his hand, almost smacking Stiles in the chest.  
  
“But! That’s so. Oh my god, your puppies bought their daddy a _present!_  Did Boyd get you anything?”  
  
Derek’s glare was a lot less scary when Stiles could see that Derek was fighting to keep his lips from twitching. “Yes.” He took off his jacket and tossed it towards Stiles’ desk chair.  
  
Stiles made a ‘well?’ gesture with his hands. “I can find out, you know. I’m really good at finding stuff out.”  
  
Derek actually snorted. “You can try. Now come here.” Derek’s hand blurred as he reached out for Stiles’ wrist, tugging so that they were both laying down on Stiles’ bed, facing each other. “You started to ask me something earlier.”  
  
Stiles gave him a weird look. “What?”  
  
Derek pushed up on one arm, sort of looming over Stiles, pushing him so that Stiles’ back was flush against the bed. He bent over him again, zeroing in on the spot where he’d bitten him, tracing it with his fingertip. “You had a question earlier. Before I marked you. What was it?”  
  
Stiles couldn’t remember for the life of him. He could feel that Derek was rock hard in his jeans, sliding against his hip and Stiles felt like he was being really daring as he reached out to touch Derek’s chest, moving his own fingers down over the muscles of his abs, over the button of his jeans and cupping the bulge there. Derek pushed himself into Stiles’ hand, his eyelids fluttering shut for a minute.  
  
Stiles felt a lot more confident and he moved his hand around, sliding his fingers in between the denim and Derek’s ass, reaching up to unbutton the jeans with his his other hand. Derek bit his lip and grunted, his eyes popping open so that he could stare down at Stiles, before bending to kiss him again.  
  
Just as suddenly, Stiles remembered his question. Derek had, it seemed to him, been very careful not to wolf out either time that they had been together. At the pool he had kind of teased Stiles with the claws. It had been kind of terrifying to know that Derek could hurt him, but at the same time it brought home the fact that Derek absolutely wouldn’t. Same with indulging his curiosity about his knot... making it very clear to Stiles that Derek was not human, but still... Stiles hadn’t been frightened off.  
  
It had been the same with the bite: showing him an aggressive, almost possessive need to get rid of Jackson’s scent. Of the bruise he’d left on Stiles. But his teeth had stayed human. He hadn’t broken the skin, hadn't done anything overly ... well. Wolfy.  
  
“Stiles.”  
  
Stiles jolted. He had actually been so wrapped up in his realization that _he’d stopped kissing Derek Hale._ “Oh my god, I’m going to be a virgin forever.”  
  
Derek’s lips twitched. It was so weird to see a bit of humor on Derek’s face that Stiles found himself staring up at him, his hand still against Derek’s ass. “Maybe not forever.”  
  
“You’re being really patient. It’s kind of weird.”  
  
Derek laughed outright at that, shifting so that he was on his knees between Stiles’ legs, undoing his jeans and sliding them off of his ass. “Not like there’s a timetable.” Stiles watched as Derek’s eyes darkened, watching Stiles’ pink tongue as it glided over his lips. Derek almost seem to fall down in slow motion, catching himself with two arms on either side of Stiles’ head push up style, bending to kiss him again. Stiles’ hands went back to Derek’s ass, helping him push down the jeans while they kissed. When Derek shifted his weight to kick them off, Stiles stretched up his neck to reach whatever bit of skin he could get, licking before he tried scraping his own teeth against against the small wet spot.  
  
Derek actually growled, moving with the supernatural strength that Stiles couldn’t even hope to match. In a heartbeat, Stiles found his hands pinned up by his headboard with one of Derek’s hands tight against his wrists. Derek kicked his jeans the rest of the way off, jerking his chest away from Stiles’ mouth and bending to kiss him again.  
  
Stiles tried to keep up as Derek practically fed at his mouth, kissing and nipping at his lips until they felt swollen, tangling their tongues together and licking into Stiles’ mouth until Stiles was making tiny little rocks of his hips, his own dick half-hard in his shorts. Stiles pulled at his hands and Derek just growled again, still kissing at Stiles’ mouth, barely letting them suck in breath before he dove in again. Stiles could feel the growl against his chest and it made him shiver, the small part of his mind that was still thinking wondering what he’d done to get this response. He didn’t think his little bite had been that hard.  
  
Derek pulled off his mouth. Stiles followed him with his, not wanting to lose the contact. He hadn’t even realized that he’d brought his legs up to wrap around Derek’s hips until he felt Derek’s hand on his ankle. Derek moved his hand up Stiles’ leg, before he let go of Stiles’ wrists to push himself up again, sucking in a huge gasp of air. “You’re sure about this?” Derek slowly moved so that he could tug off Stiles’ shorts and boxers, moving his hand over the skin that was revealed with long, smooth strokes of his fingers.  
  
Stiles moaned, arching into his touch like a cat that had been starved for attention. “Yeah. _yes,_ Derek, fuck. I know what I’m doing!” Stiles made the sign of the cross, like a priest’s blessing. “Go forth with full consent.”  
  
Derek actually ducked his head to hide the grin this time. “You’ll stop me if I do something that you don’t like.” One hand closed around Stiles’ cock, the other gripping his hip.

It wasn’t a question.  
  
“Derek, everything you’ve done to me so far has been fine. More than fine, Jesus. Just...” Stiles didn’t know what made him say it, but the words spilled out of his mouth before he could stop it. “I don’t want some asshole who doesn’t know what he’s doing fucking me for the first time.” Stiles meant to say ‘I just want you,’ but before he could Derek’s eyes flashed a dark red and Stiles’ whole world tilted dizzily as Derek flipped him over, pressed against up against his back so that there was no space between them. Stiles’ words broke off on a choked moan when he felt Derek’s cock hot and hard against him, pressing against the small of his back. It left a wet trail when he moved, and Stiles had to close his eyes for a second at the sensation. _He_ had made Derek this turned on. Even as dumb as he was being, Derek still wanted him. The sound Derek made wasn’t a growl. It was much lower than that. It almost sounded furious.  
  
Derek muscled Stiles into the position he wanted: Stiles’ elbows down on the bed with the side of his face pressed into the pillow, ass up and exposed in the air. Stiles could feel his heartbeat thundering in his chest as Derek pressed his legs further apart, pressing biting kisses into various spots on Stiles’ back. They were a little too much on the pain side, but they made his cock jerk almost every time he felt Derek’s teeth against him. Belatedly, Stiles realized that Derek was kissing at the moles and freckles on his back, moving slowly down his spine until he was nipping at the top curve of Stiles cheeks. His own cock felt swollen, slapping against his belly when he moved.  
  
Stiles only had a second to push up onto his hands, turning to look back at Derek with a shocked look before Derek had spread him open, licking at the crease. Stiles’ breath left him on a choked scream as Derek pulled his ass up, moving his tongue from the top all the way down to his balls, over and over.  
  
“Derek, wuh- _wait_...” He stuttered out, not sure if he liked what he was feeling or not. All Stiles could think was that he hadn’t taken a shower before he’d gotten home, but Derek seemed like he was enjoying himself, licking and sucking at Stiles’ skin until he was slick with Derek’s spit. Derek pulled off of him, rubbing his stubble lightly against the sensitive skin, causing Stiles to cry out again. His cock, which had flagged a little at the weirdness of everything was hard again, throbbing. Stiles wanted to bring his hand down, but he was afraid he’d come like, immediately. Like the bites, that was almost too much, but it made him over-aware of each inch of skin Derek was touching.  
  
“Yeah?” Derek’s voice sounded wrecked, like he’d taken a hit to the throat and was having to force the words out. He pressed against Stiles’ hole with his chin, lightly rubbing his neck against Stiles’ balls. “Fuck. _Fuck_ , Stiles you taste so good.”  
  
Stiles blinked. Tentatively he pushed back a little towards Derek. He couldn’t figure out if he was more grossed out or turned on. Derek made another sound, a desperate sounding little hum and moved back so his tongue traced the wrinkled little hole. It both tickled and made shivers break out all over Stiles’ sweaty skin. He knew about rimming of course, but Jesus. He never really realized how it would feel: the light little flicks, the occasional scrape of teeth, the way Derek’s breath panted, hot and humid. Derek pulled off of him with a wet sound that caused Stiles to rut against nothing, before Derek shifted again behind him.  
  
“Okay? Here, move like this. You’ll be more comfortable. I’m not gonna rush this. I’ve been thinking about it, Stiles. How you’d taste here.” He slid his finger tip where his tongue had just been, pressing slightly. “I want my mouth on every inch of you.”  
  
Stiles couldn’t talk but he figured the way Derek chuckled a little at how eagerly he tilted his ass up communicated basically the same thing. The idea that Derek had actually thought about this... about being with _Stiles_ of all people ...that Derek was so obviously enjoying himself completely blew Stiles’ mind. If Derek still hadn’t sounded so absolutely wrecked, Stiles would have thought he was being punked. He knew it wasn’t possible, but Stiles thought his heart flipped, tightening. Maybe.... Just maybe it wasn’t as one-sided as he’d thought.  
  
Derek started to move forward, but his muffled “Shit!” made Stiles grin. He turned his head to see Derek across the room, digging in the pocket of his jeans. He had the small tube and a condom and Stiles blinked a little, biting his lip, watching as Derek walked forward, stopping at the foot of his bed. “The condom is up to you. You know that werewolves don’t carry any diseases. And it’s not like I’m going to knock you up.” Derek knee walked back into place on Stiles’ bed, sliding his hands over as much of Stiles’ skin as he could touch. Stiles couldn’t help the little shiver as Derek’s rough hands trailed up the back of his thighs, over his ass, and up his back, almost petting him. “I’m not going to knot you, but you’ll still feel me come inside of you, Stiles. But if you want, I can wear the rubber. Less mess that way.”  
  
Stiles had to swallow again before he could actually talk. “I like the mess.” He watched as Derek shut his eyes, sucked in a breath, his fingers tightening on the small of Stiles’ back for just a minute.  
  
“Okay then.” Derek breathed out. “Okay.” He bent forward, and Stiles heard the cap of the little tube, then Derek’s finger was nudging inside of him. It didn’t feel bad. It didn’t even feel weird, really.  
  
“I’ve done this much to myself.” Stiles’ whisper seemed really loud in the relative quiet of his bedroom.  
  
Derek nipped lightly at the curve of Stiles’ ass. “Yeah?” Stiles nodded. “You think you can take two?” Derek didn’t really give him time to respond, sliding the second finger in besides the first. Stiles froze, then slowly relaxed as Derek slid the fingers around, sloppy and wet from the lube and his tongue. It didn’t ... hurt exactly. But it was weird. Kind of uncomfortable. “Fucking... _Christ_. You’re so tight.”  
  
“Thats-- ah. That’s good, right?” Stiles gave an experimental wiggle and sucked in a breath at the way it made his air leave his lungs on a moan.  
  
Derek was stretching him, and Stiles winced a little as the long fingers scissored inside. He groaned when Derek pulled them out, moving closer so that he could lick at the rim of his hole again. When he shoved his tongue inside, Stiles almost brained himself on the headboard as he arched with a wail that felt ripped from his throat. Derek’s slippery grip yanked him to his mouth, and Stiles couldn’t even get his breath back, the broken little _‘oh, oh, oh_ ’s of sound all he could manage as Derek started fucking him with his tongue, stretching the trembling muscle until Stiles was rocking back.  
  
Derek pulled off of him before Stiles realized, shoving the two slick fingers back inside his ass. This time was nothing but sensation. Derek curled his fingers and Siles’ yelled again, starbursts popping behind his closed eyelids.  
  
“That’s it... Fuck. I knew you’d love this...” Derek slid his fingers over that spot over and over until Stiles was moving, screwing himself back onto Derek’s hand. “You’re really gonna love it when I’m inside of you and it’s my cock hitting you....lighting you up from the inside.”  
  
Stiles felt the press of a third fingertip and tried to relax as Derek worked it inside. There was a stretch now, the sensitive skin feeling too full. Too much. He had a pretty good memory of Derek’s dick, and knew that three fingers wasn’t nearly close to making enough room. Stiles wanted Derek inside of him though. In pornos they always talked about feeling empty. About needing it.  
  
Now, Stiles knew just how they felt.  
  
“Come on. Come on come on come on come _on_ , Derek!”  
  
They had worked up a rhythm, Derek sliding his fingers inside as far as they’d go, spreading them a little, nudging Stiles’ prostate as he slid them out, with Stiles rocking back on the three digits, the arms in his muscles trembling as he held his weight up.  
  
Derek made another groan, pressing his face into Stiles’ skin. Stiles could feel his lips moving, but he couldn't hear what Derek was saying. The bed dipped and Derek jerked his fingers out of Stiles’ ass, bending and lining up the head of his cock.  
  
“Bear down when I push in. Tell me...” Derek broke off to lip at Stiles’ shoulder, licking at the sheen of sweat that coated his skin.  
  
Stiles was nodding, trying not to tense up. He felt the bump and the drag, then a bright burst of sensation as Derek pushed the head of his cock into his ass for the first time. He did what Derek suggested and the next push was easier. Derek growled again, moving so that his hands were on Stiles’ shoulders, pushing him into the bed. Derek rocked his hips, moving slowly in one inch at a time, until Stiles felt their balls bump together, felt the prickle of Derek’s pubic hair as it rubbed against him.  
  
“ _Derek_...” Stiles just breathed his name... needing to say something, hoping it didn’t sound too needy.  
  
“Tell me.”  
  
Stiles shuddered, unable to even think about refusing the order in that tone. “It’s.. you feel. Thick and.. oh. oh Please move. Please fucking move just do it, fuck me, please Derek... _please_ ”  
  
Derek cursed, his hips snapping back then forward.  
  
Stiles felt like every muscle he had was thrumming at once. Haltingly, he reached down to fist his own cock, and Derek growled, batting his hand away, shifting so that Stiles had his hands on his headboard, Derek pressed up behind him so that Stiles was straddling his thighs. Derek’s hands moved down from his shoulders, around to his armpits and down over the slick skin until they landed on his hips. Derek thrust up, moving Stiles down onto him with a little twist of his hips, over and over again until Stiles picked up the same rhythm. Stiles’ head tipped back until it was resting on Derek’s shoulder, moaning each time he pressed down onto the base of Derek’s cock. Derek hadn’t knotted, but it was still thicker than the rest of him, stretching Stiles open on the downward thrust, the muscle fluttering with loss when Derek rocked up, only to stretch wide again when he was fully seated.  
  
Derek’s hand closed around Stiles’ cock, his other pressing low onto Stiles’ belly, like he could feel himself inside. Derek began jerking his hand up and down, and Stiles felt his knuckles crack as he gripped the headboard, not even able to moan. His mouth was open as he sucked in harsh breaths, feeling like he was just along for the ride, trusting Derek to bring him off. Knowing that Derek wouldn’t hold anything back.  
  
Stiles felt Derek’s teeth on the bite from before and the white-hot pain was the last push that he needed. Derek groaned when Stiles’ dick began to spurt white streaks of come over his knuckles, Stiles’ ass tightening with each spasm of his orgasm. Derek slid his mouth down the back of Stiles shoulder, gripping his hips with his hands and shoved Stiles down, arching up into him at the same time. It was Derek’s turn to cry out, and Stiles had to shut his eyes at how much he liked hearing Derek lose control. _Jesus,_ he wanted to hear that sound over and over.  
  
Stiles could feel each time Derek’s dick jerked inside of him, and he tried to squeeze his muscles together so that it would be tighter until Derek slowly let go of his hips, releasing the strength of one finger at a time. They slumped there for a second, until their heartbeat went back to normal. Stiles shivered and Derek made a small sound, picking him up and laying him back down on the mattress. Stiles was sleepy now, sated and completely unable to keep the dumbass grin off his face. He felt like... well. Connected. He bit his lip as his earlier thought returned to him. What if. Just... what if Derek wasn’t as casual as he seemed? What if he wanted Stiles as much as Stiles wanted him? He heard Derek get up, heard the water in his bathroom running.  
  
Derek came back and the washcloth felt warm as Derek wiped off the sweat and come, maneuvering Stiles like an overstuffed doll. Which was fine. He felt like an overstuffed doll. Derek walked back to the bathroom and the water ran again. Stiles drifted for a few minutes, yawning into his arm. When he heard Derek getting dressed, he tried his best to keep from reacting, but couldn’t help himself from saying it, even though later he’d wished he’d kept his stupid mouth shut.  
  
“You can.. stay if you want.” Stiles very, very carefully didn’t look back at Derek. He heard the soft zip and tried to ignore the way it made his heart sink. It was almost hard to hear over the way Stiles’ mind babbled _Stupid. Oh god, so fucking stupid_ at him.  
  
“Ah, I don’t know if that would be a good idea.”  
  
“Oh.” Of course. Derek had made it very clear before: that this didn’t have to mean anything. Embarrassment flooded Stiles, taking his breath for a minute. He was so, _so_ glad that he wasn’t looking into Derek’s face right now. “Well, thanks? I guess. For... wow.” Stiles stretched, forcing a smile when Derek came over to kiss him again. It wasn’t much of a smile, but Derek’s kiss was rushed, so he probably didn’t even notice.  
  
“ _Don’t_ thank me, Stiles.”  
  
And with a thud of boot heels, Derek was gone. Stiles felt the sharp sting of tears and knuckled them out of his eyes, feeling like an idiot. He didn’t have any reason to be upset. Derek gave him exactly what he said he wanted. He was nice about it even. Careful. Patient with all of Stiles’ nervousness and stupid questions. Stiles huffed out a breath and made himself get up, going to take a shower. The cloth had been a nice touch, but Stiles felt sticky and gross.  
  
If he stayed there for longer than he normally did, well that was his business.  
  
When he finally got out of the shower, he almost didn’t notice the werewolf sitting in his desk chair. In fact, Stiles jumped, slapping his hand over his chest in pure fright before he realized who was there, inwardly cursing when he noticed that it wasn’t the werewolf he wanted.  
  
“Uh.. I guess you know that you missed practice?” Scott’s voice was tentative. His gaze jumped over Stiles, flicking over the bite mark on his shoulder, skittering to the mussed bedclothes, the unopened condom on the floor. “Stiles?”  
  
Stiles bit his lip, his insides squirming. He both desperately wanted to tell Scott what had happened, and hide his head under his pillow at the same time.  
  
Scott’s voice sharpened a little with worry. “Stiles. Are you... okay?” He took a step forward. Stiles forced another smile. It must have been really far off the mark, because Scott faltered, stepping back instead of forward.  
  
“Me? I’m.. I’m fine. But.” He stopped when the lump in his throat seemed to expand, making it hard for him to talk. “But, _shit._. Shit, Scott. I did something really, really stupid.”  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> One more part to go! Don’t worry... you’ll get your happy ending! Thanks for reading!!!!


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